


fragments of a holiday season

by Bat_and_Breakfast



Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Berena Advent, Berena Advent 2019, Character Death Fix, F/F, Fix-It, Smut, break up fix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21635593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bat_and_Breakfast/pseuds/Bat_and_Breakfast
Summary: Welcome to my Berena advent prompts collection. :)What to expect: varying kinds of one-shots, with different ratings. What not to expect: major character deaths and canon compliance. I hit canon over the head and chained it to a radiator in a remote cottage.Would be rated E for chapter: 1
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 45
Kudos: 128
Collections: Berena Advent 2019





	1. Feast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who would have thought? After spending three hours of my life learning more about lighting technologies, I decided to take a break and this... happened. (The writing!!)
> 
> I've never wrote smut before, so here's to me finally becoming an adult content writer!
> 
> Thanks to @tebarambles and @fortytworedvines for telling me to stop cringing (I try) and just POST THE SMUT (I did). ^^
> 
> This is unbetaed.

Bernie comes up for air, her eyes glinting, a very self-satisfied smile playing on her wet lips. She pauses to savour Serena's image, splayed naked in front of her, eyes closed and chest heaving, still recovering. She bends forwards, places a kiss right on one of Serena's nipples, displayed in such an inviting way, and gives it a sharp flick with her tongue. The brunette groans and wiggles a bit under Bernie, but seems to be unable to muster up the energy to do anything else. Bernie trails her lips upwards to the other woman's throat and gives it a playful bite, just to hear another groan in response.

A hand finds its way into the blonde’s hair and tucks halfheartedly at some strands.

"Bernie…" Serena sounds like she's barely able to speak.

"Serena." Bernie can't help herself and a soft chuckle escapes her. She places another trail of kisses along the jawline of her lover and playfully nibs at her earlobe. Her body is hovering above Serena's, their breast lightly rubbing against each other, one of Bernie's legs firmly placed between Serena's thighs, coated more and more by warmth and wetness.

"Behave yourself." Another listless tug at Bernie's hair follows. She answers it with another nip at Serena's ear.

"I actually think that I've been very good just a few minutes ago," she whispers into the brunette's ear. Serena finally manages to open her eyes and Bernie gives her a wide smile.

"Won't be of any help if you kill me in bed, darling. Would be awfully difficult to explain to the police. And I'm very fond of being alive, so we might want to avoid that outcome," she complains halfheartedly.

"Well, we did agree, didn't we?" Bernie trails her way back from Serena's ear, along her neck and throat, towards her breasts. Gives one of them a soft bite, emitting a small yelping sound from her partner. Doesn't stop there, makes her way further down Serena's body again - a kiss to her belly button, a firm lick along her hip bone. Places another kiss to the apex of her thighs, but avoids the more sensitive areas right now. This earns her a third groan and she feels Serena move under her, feels her lifting her hips just a tiny bit, as if unsure about how she wants to proceed.

Bernie gives one of Serena's legs a tender shove and the other woman lets her legs fall open for her again, just as she did three times before. The blonde places herself between them, her arms gently tugging Serena towards her. She feels eager to place her lips and tongue back to where they were before, but wants to make sure that Serena doesn't really wants her to stop right now.

"Are we still agreeing?" She asks, a hungry look placed on the body in front of her. Serena gives a fond laugh and her hands find Bernie's hair again. They look at each other, smiling and it's clear that they both don't want to stop just now.

"We are, darling. As agreed… today you may do as you wished for and feast." and with this Bernie feels Serena's hands tugging her down again.


	2. Lighthouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 12: Lighthouse
> 
> Serena struggles after Bernie's death and decides to take a leave of absence to visit an old university friend.
> 
> (Don't worry too much - the tag is "angst with a happy ending" after all.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright... current canon? Current timeline? Don't know them. Don't care about them. Let's fix them.
> 
> Thanks a lot @fortytworedvines for your betaing skills and your uplifting comments! :) 
> 
> @tebarambles: I know it wasn't your prompt, but it is absolutely your kind of prompt. So this is for you. Thank you for being a friend. :)
> 
> (Apparently I can't officially gift single chapters. Pity!)

Although summer is not fully gone yet, the sky over Plymouth is grey and the wind tugs almost violently at Serena’s hair. While the Sound and the Breakwater keep Plymouth safe from the worst of the sea’s raw power, the wind still blows unrestrained, making her shiver while she walks from the Barbican towards the Hoe.

She won’t complain though. In fact, she welcomes the cold and the gusts of wind. She came here to feel again, after all. To recuperate. Bereavement after bereavement piled up on her shoulders over the years until finally Bernie’s unexpected and untimely death broke her, like the proverbial camel’s back.

Of course she had tried to deal with it in her own way at first. Which meant that she drank a lot of wine and just tried to muddle through. Steady on, Campbell. Others need you. Wake up, go to work, go home, drink wine, fall asleep, repeat. Until Karen called her. An innocent enough call from her old university friend, which resulted in Serena breaking down on the phone and Karen practically ordering her to take a leave of absence and come visit her in Plymouth.

So here she is, walking along the sea after having fish and chips for a late lunch in Plymouth’s old town. Karen was on early shifts this week and practically glued to her ward at Derriford Hospital when she wasn’t sleeping. Serena didn’t mind though, actually enjoyed the feeling of solitude way more than she could have enjoyed it at home. The sea helps. She’s always been a bit in love with the sea.

Nevertheless it’s time to turn her back on it and so Serena takes the steps up to the Hoe, Smeaton’s Tower looming ahead of her. She likes the old lighthouse. Likes the way it makes her feel welcome every time she comes back to visit the city, which doesn’t happen often enough. Although that might change. As much as she loves seeing Gwinny grow up, during the last few weeks she has come to the conclusion that her time as a Holby resident might finally come to an end. There are just too many ghosts floating around the city and in her place of work in particular.

She’d spoken to Karen about relocating and her idea of switching to locum work for a while. Good surgeons were always needed within the NHS, in Plymouth and everywhere else, so finding work would probably be easy enough. Karen supported her idea and even offered her two rooms with an en-suite in her house for a while, until she found something of her own. Her children were grown up and gone their own way and she had the house to herself nowadays. Serena took her offer seriously. Maybe she would even move to one of the smaller coastal towns. A small cottage by the sea might be all she needed for now. 

She is so absorbed in her thoughts that she sets foot upon the meadow around the lighthouse without really noticing how she got there.

Serena stops for a moment to take in the view. The Hoe is almost deserted, the tourists and usual outdoor enthusiasts obviously staying indoors for now. Only the occasional dog walker can be seen braving the weather out of necessity. Serena takes a deep breath and starts to turn in a circle, only to suddenly stop short.

There’s a woman sitting on the steps of the lighthouse, huddled into the closed entrance, her long blonde hair being whipped around by the wind. Serena feels her heart skip a beat and her breath catch. Bernie is dead and gone, she reminds herself. It’s no use to get all emotional about any other blonde woman just because she reminds her of her former partner.

Still she’s drawn towards the lighthouse’s steps. She knows that she will feel gutted in a few seconds, but can’t stop herself. The blonde notices her approach and almost springs to her feet. Serena just stares at her, hears nothing but the blood rushing through her ears, feels her heartbeat quicken. Berenice Wolfe's body is buried under rubble somewhere in Africa. Nevertheless, here she is, in Plymouth, taking fast steps towards Serena, her face a picture of a dozens of emotions. For the first time in her life, after all the grit and blood and personal tragedy, Serena feels like she might actually faint due to an emotional overload. The other woman comes to a halt in front of her. They stare at each other, until Bernie breaks their silence with rushed words.

“Karen said that you were taking a walk along the Sound. I might have given her a bit of a fright, I think. Not often that the unknown dead show up on your front steps. After she had the chance to catch herself, she told me that you always end up at the Hoe and that my best chance would be to wait for you around here. Of course I could have called, but I thought that this requires a bit more than a call.” Bernie obviously notices that she’s rambling a bit and falls silent, her smile suddenly insecure, her eyes searching.

Serena still can’t find her words, feels frozen in time, can’t stop looking at the woman standing in front of her. She feels afraid to blink, because if this Bernie is just a figment of her imagination, prone to vanish with the slightest change, she doesn’t know how she will be able to avoid a complete breakdown when she’s gone. Again.

“Serena? Could you please say - something? Anything?” The blonde takes a step towards her, raises a hand, but stops before touching her.

Serena stares at the hand reaching out for her. Raises her hand like in trance and lets their fingertips brush against each other. Intertwines their fingers, feels the bones underneath the callused skin. Realises that this is quite real, that this is Bernie standing in front of her. She gives a strangled sob and desperately grips the other woman’s hand.

Bernie’s eyes soften and Serena feels herself being pulled towards the blonde. She collapses into her, wants to do everything at once: Hold her tight, laugh, touch her face, cry, kiss her, scream, ask her a thousand questions. In the end she just sobs violently into her shoulder. They both cry and hold each other tight - their good old British reserve hopeless against the onslaught of feelings they are both experiencing. After what could have been mere minutes or several hours Serena finally manages to calm down.

She takes the smallest of steps away from Bernie, just enough to be able to look at her face properly. Notices the lines etched deep into the other woman’s face, the scrawniness of her. It’s been weeks since she first heard about the explosion and Bernie missing. She wonders where she’s been all the time.

“Some village days away from the hospital,” Bernie starts to speak as if she had read Serena’s mind. “I saw something that made me suspicious. Thought it might be a small time black market deal with some of our supplies going down, went to investigate and happened upon a group of men, tinkering with something that looked like an explosive device. You can’t imagine how shocked we all were. Might be that they didn’t want to risk drawing attention, but one of them knocked me out cold instead of just killing me on the spot. Next thing I remember, I’m bound and blindfolded, lying on the floor of some vehicle, rumbling along the backlands. Felt like an eternity until we finally stopped at a village in the middle of nowhere, where they held me prisoner.” Serena takes a sharp breath at that, her mind conjuring the most disturbing images of what might have happened to Bernie.

The blonde hugs her closer again. “Not to worry, it wasn’t too bad. Could have been worse. The men all went their way and left me with the villagers they obviously knew. I made myself useful by looking after their ill and elderly. Didn’t know what else to do. After about six weeks I was suddenly told that I was free to go. It’s not exactly like Paddington station was around the corner, so it took me quite a while to get back to the hospital… or what was left of it.” Bernie falls silent again. Buries her nose in Serena’s hair.

“Alex told me you were dead.” Serena finally manages to say.

“I know, dear. Highly exaggerated as you see.” The blonde looks ruefully at her and places a kiss on her forehead. “I’m very sorry that you had to go through this. Cameron told me that you tried to muddle through with your head held up high, but that you finally had to take a leave of absence, because everything was too much to handle. He gave me Karen’s address.”

“We buried you. With Marcus insisting on being in charge. Marcus Dunn, Bernie. In charge of your funeral!” Serena can’t put into words how distressed she had been at his awful behaviour.

“Won’t happen again, dear. I promise. Next time there will be proper protocol in place.”

“NEXT TIME??” Now seems to be about the right time to finally let out the screaming and shouting Serena feels bubbling inside her.

“Well, not for a while, at least I sure hope so! Being dead is a bloody inconvenience, let me tell you that. All the paperwork involved? Makes the NHS paperwork seem trivial. You know how much I hate paperwork.”

Serena gives a strangled laugh. Bernie Wolfe, worrying about paperwork due to her being declared dead. Figures.

“What about Alex?” She doesn’t really want to ask, is afraid of the answer. Asks anyway, because Bernie is here, with her and Alex is nowhere in sight.

“What about her?” Bernie looks at her curiously.

“She told me that you two were engaged.” Serena scrutinises the blondes face, but sees only bafflement.

“Why would she do that? We were working together again, started up to be friends again. We certainly didn’t get engaged! Why would I go and get engaged to another woman when I love you?” Bernie falls silent again, realising what she just said. Serena smiles widely at her.

“I love you, too. Thought it would be too late to ever say it to you again, so I won’t hold back now I’ve got the chance. I love you, Berenice Wolfe.” Serena takes the other woman’s head in her hands, buries her fingers into her hair and touches their foreheads together, before she places a soft kiss on her lips. “We’ll have to talk, though - obviously.”

“We have and we will. There’s a lot I’ve got to say to you. Being stuck for weeks left me with ample time to think things through,” Bernie nods at Serena and breaks their embrace, but only to take her hand.

Serena smiles at the sight of their intertwined hands, her thumb grazing along Bernie’s hand. Whatever her future might hold, it suddenly seems a lot brighter and way less scary with Berenice Wolfe back at her side.


	3. Exhaustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie Wolfe is sick of being told about her alleged shortcomings. Taking care of the bins, wearing slippers and being ok with fuzzy family feelings? Check, check and check as far as she's concerned. Standing in front of Albie's after her partner broke up with her just minutes ago, she's contemplating what to do...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks @fortytworedvines for betaing this - your help & comments are highly appreciated! :)
> 
> In regards to actual canon events around this fic, this work keeps true to my motto: Canon? I don't know her.

Sometimes in life – actually most of the times in life, probably a dozen times a day – more or less obvious decisions have to be made. Some of those are seemingly inconsequential to life's progress: a decision to get a coffee before work, a decision on what blouse to wear to work, a decision to offer a drink later on in the pub. Others change the trajectory of life or even lives: a kiss on a theatre floor, a kiss in an on call room, a goodbye at a pub. It sometimes even happens that someone makes a decision and someone else has to suffer the consequences – like being told to go, after hearing about bins, slippers and a perceived inability to settle down.

Berenice Wolfe is sick of this. Even though she's used to receiving orders – years spent in the military made quite sure of that – and even though she's normally not one to go up against others for the sake of her own feelings, she feels like she's finally reached a point in her life where she just can't take it anymore. Sod the consequences of not maintaining an indifferent composure. Although she just left Albie's with a bit of a mock salute to her partner – former partner, she tells herself with a huff – she hasn't really heeded her marching orders. Instead of taking the next taxi to pick up her things at their – wait, no, not theirs at all, but just Serena's home of course, which makes her huff again – well, instead of just packing her things to disappear into the non-existent sunset, she's still in front of the pub, smoking her second cigarette in ten minutes, unsure of what to do next. Come to think of it, she's actually quite sure what she really wants to do right now. That is, to storm back into the pub and grab the bloody self-destructive Serena Campbell to drag her outside for a very stern talking to.

"Bloody bins!" she fumes and kicks at one of the offending things standing right next to the pub. "Bins!" How about kissing other women? Might be a bit more of interest to their relationship than the collection day schedule. An actual growl escapes her. She feels like a pressure cooker about to go off with a bang. Contemplates hitting the wall of Albie's with her bare fist just to feel some welcomed release. Of course she doesn't; her hands are essential to her job and even though she actually hasn't got a job right now, it would be unwise to take a risk like that. Instead she just groans and lets her head fall against the wall. Feels the rough plaster scrap her skin. Doesn't care, because at least it's another kind of feeling than rage and hurt, which are the most prominent feelings inside her right now. The self-help book she read on a slow week at work in Nairobi mentioned that yelling could help to release bottled up feelings. Might finally be worth a try. The book said to do that in the woods or in a field, with nobody around, of course. Not in front of a pub, come to think of it. As if on cue, Bernie hears the pub’s door open behind her. Decides to pretend that she's invisible. Hears a sharp intake of breath just a few steps to her side. Where's the bloody coat of invisibility if one needs it, she mentally grumbles.

"Bernie?" Serena's voice reaches her. It's just a single word, just her name, but she can hear the waver in it, the insecurity.

"What?" she almost barks, not moving an inch to have a look at the woman she loves.

"What are you doing?" It sounds like Serena took a step towards her. She can feel the other woman come nearer, but still keeps her eyes closed and her head against the wall.

"Leave me alone, Serena. You've said your part and you made it very clear what you want – or don't want anymore actually. You can rest assured that I'll pick up my things and be out of your way soon enough, ok?" Suddenly Bernie feels exhausted. Exhausted and frustrated. Frustrated with life. With love. With everything playing out against them. She turns around and finally takes a look at the other woman. Serena’s eyes are red rimmed and she's worrying the pendant she's wearing. Of course she is. Bernie wonders if Serena is even aware of the telltale signal she gives off so easily. The exhaustion becomes all encompassing and Bernie lets herself slide along the wall down to the ground. She doesn't care about her clothes or dirt or the cold. She doesn't care about anything at all right now. Why should she? Everything has gone to shit anyway.

Serena just looks at her without saying a word. Maybe she's said all she had to say. Maybe that's it from now on. Bernie closes her eyes again. Not a single word, not a single touch, not a single Skype call after their shifts finally ended. Of course, Bernie doesn't have any shifts to end for now. She resigned her job to come back to the UK for good. No shifts for the next time. Maybe she should try and get her job back. Maybe it's time to contemplate reenlisting? She's as good as new right now. Going back to the ranks after a medical discharge isn't easy, but she heard about others managing to come back before.

Suddenly she's startled out of her musings by Serena sitting down next to her. She turns her head around to the other woman, who doesn't seem to notice how cold and dirty the ground is. Just sits there, next to her, looking at her. Still not a word, though. Bernie sighs. Serena is too close. Too lovely. Too ingrained into her heart.

"How appropriate," she suddenly utters with a snort.

"What is?" Serena asks her with a curious look.

"Just look at us. We've come full circle – started getting things out in the open on the ground like this and now we end things between us on the ground like this." Bernie just shakes her head, clasps her knees and lets her head fall onto her arms.

"I'm sorry, Bernie." Serena's voice seems small and almost a whisper.

"Don't be. You just told me how you feel about me. From most fearless surgeon to someone unable to settle down and take out a bloody bin. Quite the journey." Maybe the hurt and rage isn't completely gone, because Bernie feels a knot in her gut, getting bigger again by the minute.

"I didn't want to hurt you."

"Ha. Funny way you have of not hurting me. Take my cue – if not hurting me was really in your plans, they didn't work out like you intended."

"I can see that. I can feel it, too. I actually… didn't plan anything at all." Serena sounds defeated and unsure, but Bernie just can't show any consideration for her right now.

"Great. Breaking up on a whim sounds so much better." Bernie feels stuck in too many feelings. Lashing out seems like the easiest way to go.

"I came outside, because I wanted to go after you, you know." Serena shifts beside her.

"Want to make sure that I'm gone in a timely manner?" Sarcasm. Sarcasm is her lifesaver. It's easy to hide behind and even if some of her feelings suddenly shine through, she can always claim being overly exaggerating.

"More like begging you to stay." Serena shifts closer to her.

Bernie looks up at her in surprise. Sees anxiousness, pain and a small sliver of hope on Serena's face. Her rage and hurt aren't gone, though. Still very much around, actually.

"I'm not a yoyo, Serena. You can't string me around and expect me to come back to you with a tug."

"I'm aware of that, Bernie, believe me, I'm very much aware. And I know that I did you wrong. And I understand that you are hurt and angry and you have every right to be, but please, please ask yourself if there's another chance for us to talk things through. I won't ask you for instant forgiveness. But I made such a big mistake and then I overreacted and got scared and I - once again – thought that I knew better, well, knew what's good for you better than you know. Which is peak self-aggrandisement. I'm very sorry, Bernie. I can understand if you'd just turn away from me and go back to Nairobi to maybe be with someone who's better suited to make you happy than I am." Serena's voice sounds frayed and rough. Bernie gives a sigh.

"There's no one in Nairobi. No one better suited to make me happy at all. Also, there's no Nairobi to go back to." She hears Serena's breath hitch.

"What do you mean 'there's no Nairobi to go back to'?" 

"I resigned. Spent the last weeks getting my successor up to speed. Packed everything up and left it ready to be shipped back here."

"And I told you to go," Serena groans as the magnitude of their inability to communicate hits her.

"In no uncertain words." Bernie is way past cushioning things. She shifts a bit, the cold finally seeping into her body, which makes her back hurt. Has to wince, but tries to hide it.

"You're uncomfortable." Serena reaches out for her shoulder, but pulls away almost as soon as she touches her. Bernie reacts on instinct, grabs her hand to lay it back onto her shoulder.

"You know that I love you," she says matter of factly.

"I do. I can't always comprehend, but I do." Serena starts to rub her shoulder in small circles.

"A simple massage won't be the solution, Serena." Bernie gives her a serious look.

"Ha," Serena gives a short and sharp laugh, but doesn't stop, "Would be too easy that way, wouldn't it?"

"Way too easy." Bernie sighs and nevertheless leans a bit into Serena's touch. Feels sad and tired and unwilling to let go.

"How about this: we get up from the awfully cold and damp ground before we both catch a cold. We'll take a taxi to the house. We'll sit down and talk. You won't move out. I'll take the guest room if you want me to – and we'll take as much time to talk and work through things as we need to. We can even get some help." Now it's Serena's turn to give her a serious and also pleading look. "If you don't think it's – too late for us?" Bernie sees her swallowing hard, sees how anxious she's suddenly looking. Takes the other woman's hand and gives it as much of a reassuring squeeze as she can.

"No. I don't think so. If it were too late, I'd have taken a taxi to the house as soon as I set foot outside. I'd probably be gone already. Holed up in some hotel with a bottle of whisky, trying to come up with a way to forget you and move on."

"But you're here…" 

"I'm here. I'd like to stay. Talk. Figure things out. Do couples therapy. Maybe a neutral observer will help us see things we don't recognise on our own." Bernie is still holding Serena's hand and gives it another squeeze. "Of course we should try and get up first. Don't know how easy that will be. I think I threw my back out." She tries to get up, scrunches her eyes close and wheezes a bit, because pain races from her hip along her spine. Feels Serena slowly get up beside her. Thinks that they both are getting too old to sit on the ground in December. Suddenly Serena takes her hands and gives them a careful tug. Bernie opens her eyes again to find the other woman standing in front of her, ready to help her up.

"We'll manage, Bernie. Together, Major – with joint effort."

Bernie knows that Serena is not just talking about getting her up from the ground with a minimum of pain, but also about the bigger picture, their future. Joint effort sounds good to her. She likes the idea of them making an effort together. A taxi now, some more comfortable clothes, maybe a hot water bottle for her back – and then they will talk and figure things out. Might be that it will take some time. Nevertheless she’s quite sure that they will find a way, because all their problems aside, they love each other and if they are willing to work things out that's all that counts in the long run.

And with this thought she holds onto Serena’s hands and gets up from the ground.


End file.
